The Cure Is You

A Peace Offering.

°SERENA°

“But don’t treat everyone as if they’re beneath you. We’re humans, Adrian. We have emotions too.” I don’t even know why I am saying this; he won’t understand anyway. All he ever does is what he wants.

I stumbled to my bed, hugging myself, as his words cut through me again and again.

It hurts. It really hurts to know he thought I was like that—someone so vile, so opportunistic. For a split second yesterday, I thought maybe, just maybe, he had a heart too.

But today, he proved me utterly wrong.

And with his cold dismissal, he buried the fragile hope that had dared to sprout, that had threatened to appear.

I should be used to this by now—the accusations, the judgment, the way his eyes harden every time he looks at me. But no amount of time or repetition makes it easier. If anything, it carves deeper, each word and action leaving a scar I can’t quite hide.

I thought, even though he doesn’t care about me, at least he respects and understands me. That he sees I am not as despicable as he thought.

And that’s what makes this unbearable.

Because it isn’t just his accusations that hurt—it’s the loss of something I hadn’t even realized I wanted until it was gone: his belief in me. I wanted him to believe me.

Maybe it was foolish to hope for it in the first place. Maybe I’m cursed to lose everything I hold dear. I would never place my hope in him again—or anyone else. Never again would I let myself feel that flicker of hope.

Ahh, I’m tired.

The growling of my stomach snapped me out of my deep sleep. It was late, and between all the commotion, I hadn’t eaten my dinner. But it’s almost midnight now.

I am hungry. But would there be food now? Well, I could just make something if there’s nothing. After all, I wasn’t raised in riches.

Dragging myself down to the kitchen, I paused at the entrance. Something on the counter caught my eye—a box with a note perched on top.

Eat it.

I couldn’t help but smile at the curt command. From the tone, it was clear who had left it there. Adrian. Does he even know how to talk to people without commanding them?

Was he expecting me to come down and eat? Did he care—

Stop, Serena. Don’t go there. Just eat and go back to sleep. Yes.

I heated the food and ate in silence. The warmth of the meal filled my stomach and calmed my nerves. Despite my resolve, I couldn’t help but wonder: What was his intention? Was this a peace offering? His way of apologizing? Whatever.

It wasn’t long before I crawled back into bed, exhaustion taking over. With my stomach full, sleep came easily, pulling me into a dreamless slumber.

---

Morning arrived with its usual chaos, sunlight streaming through the window as I hurried to get ready. I hoped—prayed, even—for the day to go better than the last. But the second I opened the door, I knew it wouldn’t.

There he was, sitting in the hall, as nonchalant as ever. Why was he awake this early? He usually got up after I left.

Whatever. Heartless guy.

I’m still mad at him.

Avoiding him entirely, I headed straight to the kitchen, determined to have my breakfast in peace. I ate quickly, hoping to slip away without exchanging a single word.

But just as I was about to leave, his voice stopped me in my tracks.

“Serena!”

My heart skipped a beat. It was the first time he had called me by my name, and the sound of it sent a shiver down my spine.

I clutched my bag tightly, placing a hand over my chest, trying to steady my racing heart. Slow down, you stupid heart.

I turned to face him, and our eyes met. His dark gaze bore into mine, the early morning sunlight casting a radiant glow around him. It highlighted the sharp angles of his face, the faint stubble along his jaw, and even gave his lips a soft, pinkish hue.

He looked... handsome.

Damn it, Serena. You’re mad at him. Focus, girl.

“What?” I asked, trying to sound as harsh as possible. But to the God of Disrespect himself, my tone didn’t even register. I think I need lessons from him.

“Here, take this,” he said, holding out a card with elegant gold lettering.

God, no. I am not ready for another round of confrontation. And who needs his card anyway?

“I can take care of myself, thank you,” I snapped, crossing my arms.

“This card is unlimited, and I won’t question you again. Take it,” he urged.

Wait. By not questioning, did he mean he trusted me now? That’s impossible.

“No, Adrian,” I said firmly. “I don’t need your money. I need respect. I don’t want you treating me—or anyone—like a slave.”

I sighed, looking down. He wouldn’t understand. People like him never do.

But then I heard a whisper: “I will try.”

My head shot up, and I stared at him sharply. Did he really just say that?

A smile appeared on my face. He did. “I will try.” It wasn’t much, but from him, it felt monumental.

Ahh, now I regret not recording it. I want to replay that again and again in his voice.

“Okay,” I said, not even bothering to hide my smile.

“And... thanks for the ‘Eat it,’” I added, feeling my cheeks burn.

He had this effect on me, making me feel like a little girl. And maybe I am, compared to him.

His lips twitched, almost forming a smirk, but he turned away before I could be sure. Without another word, he went away, leaving me there.

Damn it, Serena. You’re still mad at him. Right?